


Self-Destruction

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda, Whump, connor is pretty stressed out ok, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: He stumbled to a stop several blocks away. He closed his eyes only to see dead ones gazing back from his automatic memory replay. Dead eyes, cold skin, his sensors offered. No heartbeat, red blood.STRESS AT 99.4%. SELF-DESTRUCTION IMMINENT.***Connor is stressed out and Hank has to calm him down.





	Self-Destruction

**WARNING: STESS** **LEVELS APPROACHING 95%.**

Connor blinked, hands shaking. Blue liquid blurred with red blood, staining his hands in a way that he could never scrub off. Blue and red lights  _(blueandredandblueandred)_ flashed in the corners of his vision. His sensors registered that the substances on his hands were still warm.

The body under them was still cold, no matter how hard he had tried.

**STRESS AT 97%. CURRENTLY RISING AT A RATE OF .6% PER MINUTE.**

“Connor? Connor!” A voice shouted behind him.

The android blinked again.  _Inhale. Exhale_. A shaky hand, pressed to his face. Thirium, leaking from his optical sensors? Fear.  _Regret_.

“I-I tried to save them-”

“I know you did. C'mere, let’s-”

Connor rose to his feet sharply, heading for the door. Get out. Get out get out getout _getout_ -

He turned and ran.

“CONNOR-”

_Inhale. Exhale_. The shaking hands pressed to his head pulled at his hair. The pavement pounded against the pressure sensors in his feet. Thirium dripped down his face, dripped down his fingers.

He stumbled to a stop several blocks away. He closed his eyes only to see dead ones gazing back from his automatic memory replay.  _Dead eyes, cold skin_ , his sensors offered.  _No heartbeat, red blood_.

**STRESS AT 99.4%. SELF-DESTRUCTION IMMINENT.**

REPORT>>

>VICTIM1: 14 Y/O HUMAN MALE.

>VICTIM2: PL600 MODEL ANDROID.

<<ENDREPORT

_Dead eyes_ , his sensors offered.  _Blue blood, red blood._

He rubbed at his optical sensors hard enough to make them fill with static. His fingers tore at his skin, ripped at his clothes. An itch, an urge under his synthetic skin.  _Hurt. Damage. Destroy._

He balled his hands into fists and hit his legs as hard as he could, feeling the way the white shell encasing his thighs dented and split.  _Hurt_. He pulled his jacket off. His tie was next.  _Damage_. He stopped his pounding at his legs long enough to feel the world tilt sideways.

He leaned, fell, crashed into the wall beside him. Which way was up, which one down? Was this guilt? It swelled in his throat.  _Inhale_ ~~hecouldn'tbreathe~~ _. Exhale_ ~~airwherewastheair~~ _._

**STRESS: 100%. SELF-DESTRUCTION COMMENCING. PLEASE INFORM NEAREST CYBERLIFE OFFICE OF MALFUNCTIONS.**

_Destroy_.

Connor slammed his head into the wall as hard as he could. It wasn’t enough. Thirium drained from his eyes and the newly-formed gash in his head. Another hit.

“Connor, where are you?! Connor-” Loud swearing. “CONNOR STOP-”

Hands, tearing at his clothes. One cupped the back of his head, keeping him from impacting his head against the wall again. He fought against it, emotions buzzing under his shell that demanded to be let out.

More loud cursing as Connor tore from the hold and stumbled back to the wall, doing his best to damage as many crucial biocomponents as he could. His shaking fingers clawed at his chest -  **POTENTIAL DAMAGE TO BIOCOMPONENT #29473THREG.**

Another hit against the wall. “CONNOR! STOP!” A string of frantic cursing. The hands pulled at his arms, unbalanced him, and brought him to the ground.

**> >IDENTIFY:LTANDERSON**

Hank pinned him down, concern sparking in his eyes. “Connor you gotta stop this! Kid, c'mon, I know you’re in there somewhere! Calm down!”

TASKPRIORITY>>

>TASK1: SELF-DESTRUCTION.

>TASK2: PREVENT HARM TO IDENTIFY:LTANDERSON

>CONFLICTING_TASKS>>

>>PRIORITYASCRIBEDTO: TASK2

<RESOLVE: CONFLICTING_TASKS

<<ENDTASKPRIORITY

Connor stilled. “H-Hank?” His voice broke. Hank eased up.

**CONTINUE SELF-DESTRUCTION WITHOUT HARM TO IDENTIFY:LTANDERSON**.

He began clawing at his chest again, shirt tearing in his haste to get to his pump regulator. Hank swore again and grabbed his wrists. “Connor. Listen to me. There was nothing you could do.”

>>PLAYMEMORYFILE

_> Connor fell to his knees beside the boy and the android protecting him. “Lieutenant, in here!” The boy wasn’t breathing. His sensors registered no pulse. The android was 00:00:17 seconds from shutdown. Connor pulled back his synthetic skin to reveal his white shell, pressing it to the android’s hand in an attempt to diagnose the primary malfunction._

_> He was just in time to feel it die._

<<STOPMEMORYFILE

“Can you hear me? Nothing. I need you to calm down, okay?” Hank’s hand cupped his face, still restraining him with the other hand. “Connor. Stay with me.”

Thirium flowed freely down his cheeks. “I-I could’ve saved them- if I had been faster-”

“Don’t think about the ‘ifs’, kid. Nothing you did changed whether they lived or died. What are your stress levels at?”

“100%,” Connor whispered. Warnings about biocomponent and external casing damage clouded his vision.  _HurtDamageDestroy_.

“You gotta breathe. Okay? How do we get your stress levels down?”

Connor struggled to draw in air he didn’t need, thirium rushing in his ears. “M-My scans suggest…alternate s-stimulus-”

Hank sputtered. “In English?”

“A tactile d-distraction,” Connor replied. It was hard to focus on anything but his systems pushing him to self-destruct.

Hank stared at him for a moment, breathing heavy, before pressing Connor into his chest. “Breathe, kid,” he said. One hand went up to patting Connor on the head while the other rubbed his back.

His sensors automatically focused on the repetitive motion.  _Inhale. Exhale_. His stress levels edged away from 100%. Warnings popped up for the damaged biocomponents in his head and legs, and thirium dripped from both his eyes and forehead.

His energy levels plummeted. His internal systems registered approximately 00:11:16 until forced sleep mode.

>>RECOMMEND: FIX THIRIUM LEAKS BEFORE FORCED SLEEP MODE.

Connor pawed at Hank’s arm, eyes half-shut. “Hank.”

“Yeah?” Hank held him at arm’s length, and cursed. “You’re a little banged up, kid.”

“Y-yes, I require additional thirium, and…my systems will fix…the rest-” He paused, opening his eyes. It was hard to keep them open. “Hank?” His partner met his gaze, steady and sure. “Thank you.”

Hank ruffled a hand in his hair. “You’re gonna be okay, son.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey! go check out awesome art for this [here](http://woogwoo-wren.tumblr.com/post/175703007363)!!


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